(with her silly finger flick to the back of his head,
a tricky scenario dissolved)

" hi Hon, wacha doin?"

"wanna go get some ice cream?
it's a really nice day"

"you know, you spend a lot of time
on that. You should take a break.
let's do something fun"

"When are you going to finish that?"

"What's so important that you can't spend some time with me"

"I'm starting to think you don't like my company!"

Freedom to express
Poetry has become less
Arbitrariness

This stroll I’ve taken time and times before.
Each moment was as pleasant as the last.
I’ve seen the trees and harkened to Stan’s lore
while trodding grass as green as days long past.
For green and lush they were spite all the pain
and now I can recall the loveliness.
The fear is still remembered, but as gain;
those lessons learned that helped me to address
the joys and how to keep them close to me.
And so I walk again with my old friend
to gaze at flowers red and blue he sees.

I don't like waiting
but I can do it.
Sometimes it's a struggle
but I can do it.

Most of us can;
no whining or fussing.
As kids, we probably got the shit slapped out of us
if we got too squirmy.
It's one of life's main lessons;
shut up and wait

But every once in awhile
some asshole starts acting up,
hissing-fitting about his precious time,
or the incompetency of a clerk, or waiter.

We were sitting on a fence
me and my buddy
just hanging out
he said he wanted to be a farmer
I laughed, kind of a snortle
he was the laziest guy I ever met

it must have pissed him off, my laughing
he stopped hanging out

last I heard, he became a cop

From the silk route boom
Peace, prosperity mushroom
Thousand flowers bloom

The boy looks up,
essence subsiding,
says
“You will not be forgiven
for this.”

For if God comes down to crimson thick;
pooling on the floor, around the skin,
he’ll cry depravity.

Ivan the terrible crouched by the mantlepiece;
holding only one word,

“Indeed.”

“Beat the stomach of the whore
that child
stays forever young.”

Shame.

And in another life you fled to the mountains
stopped poison rings round Mother’s cup
infection taking Father’s leg.

Learnt love.
learnt life.

Sometime ago, a seed was planted.
The soil was tainted from Parents that fainted,
and abandoned Me to the wind.
I've weathered many turbulent storms.
Still I had to nourish myself,
so that I could flourish and grow.
Whatever my fate is, I do not know.
I shudder to think that God will ever let Me go.
Much favor and Blessings have come my way.
That is why I wish to say.
I'm glad for the Seasons that come and go,
for I'm still growing,
I'm a blushed vibrant color,

Mona Lisa smile
With eyes seemingly mobile
Aspect to beguile

When I am asked
how I began writing poems,
I talk about the indifference of nature.

It was soon after my mother died,
a brilliant June day,
everything blooming.

I sat on a gray stone bench
in a lovingly planted garden,
but the day lilies were as deaf
as the ears of drunken sleepers
and the roses curved inward.
Nothing was black of broken
and not a leaf fell
and the sun blared endless commercials
for summer holidays.